


Blow out the candle, I will burn again tomorrow.

by Kaesteranya



Series: Strangelove [2]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-04
Updated: 2011-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-15 09:17:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/159334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaesteranya/pseuds/Kaesteranya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We all have to bleed, in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blow out the candle, I will burn again tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> This bit was inspired by Chapters 156 & 157 of the manga (and pretty much all the interaction that this pair has after the Edo Arc), so spoilers do apply. Also note that that the title is taken from the 31 Days theme for May 29, 2007.

Komui had disappeared long before things had calmed down to a reasonable level in the ruins of the Science Department; Cross knew that if the man had had his way, he would have stayed on until all the rubble had been cleared and every single one of his men had been rolled out of the place and taken care of properly. Being the Supervisor of the Black Order, however, took precedence over everything else, even compassion – time was best spent being productive rather than wallowing in sorrow. Hence, Komui had turned his back on the dust of his crew and walked off to be a leader to the survivors, and Cross had watched him do it. The general could not remember the last time he had seen the outline of Komui’s shoulders against the milling crowd and thought of them as fragile and small.

 

After making sure that his student was still generally alive, Cross immediately headed for Komui’s office, knowing that it would be the place Komui would likely end up in once he was done stretching himself out too thin for an organization he didn’t particularly like. He found himself thinking of things to say as Tincampi buzzed about somewhere near his head, and decided he would not think about it too much and play at being natural the moment he was at the door. Komui was the type of person who immediately put his guards up and smiled until he broke inside at the first person who showed him any sort of concern; he and his sister were alike that way. Cross had learned to pretend not to care, or at least trick Komui into thinking that he didn’t – the younger man opened up to him better that way.

 

There was only one light on in Komui’s office, and it was weak, so weak that it actually made the shadows and darkness seem worse than they were rather than lend any light. Komui himself was at his desk, leaning far back into his chair, arms limp on the armrests, cigarette perched on his lips. Cross pushed the door shut behind himself.

 

“I haven’t seen you puffing one of those in years.”

 

“I’ve had a rough day.”

 

Komui took a long drag and exhaled the smoke with a quiet sigh. At another date, Cross might have gone over and closed the distance between them, but he could hear the undercurrents in the supervisor’s voice. They were enough to stay his hand.

 

“How many?”

 

“Half of my department.”

 

“They can be replaced eventually.”

 

The deadening silence was disconcerting: the Komui that he was used to would have answered, would have flared up and said things and maybe thrown him out. Cross straightened up and turned away. “Don’t kill yourself over this yet,” he murmured as he left. “Those kids, this place… they still need you.”

 

Cross stepped out – he lingered for a few minutes longer, leaning against the wall and staring out the window. He did not go back inside. In the meantime, Komui took the cigarette from his lips and put one hand over his eyes. When the tears came he told himself that it would only be for tonight: he would be fine by morning.


End file.
